


there's fear in loving and loving in being loved

by smoke_rings_and_paper_dolls



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Age Swap, Day6 - Freeform, DoPil, Im so tired lmao, M/M, Please Don't Look At These Tags Lmao, day6 kindergarten au, day6au, dopil au, dowoon is a gay little nervous bean, hyung line babies, kingerdarten au, this is pure fluff once again, this one is for shiro bless her, wonpil is really fucking pretty btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoke_rings_and_paper_dolls/pseuds/smoke_rings_and_paper_dolls
Summary: dowoon is madly in love with his coworker, and wonpil doesn't realise just quite how much he appreciates dowoon until he's gone.
Relationships: Kim Wonpil/Yoon Dowoon
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	there's fear in loving and loving in being loved

**Author's Note:**

> yeah that summary sounds horribly shady but i swear there's no character death lmao, dowoon is just gay as fuck and wonpil is really cute. also yeah that title is pretentious as hell but im doped up on so much caffeine rn and i swear im trying. btw im rlly sorry if you clicked on because you're a ahgase/arsonist who's run out of content but youngjae is only mentioned briefly :')  
> if you find any errors or mistakes, please feel free to correct me !! comments are appreciated :)  
> and i hope you enjoy this work !! <3
> 
> wrote this a while ago for shiro hehe

yoon dowoon was a fucking coward.

“dowoon-ah!” came the accursedly heavenly voice of the one and only kim wonpil, beloved head teacher of Sunrise Daycare and Educational Institute and the one person who intimidated dowoon the most, and dowoon could physically feel the breath catching in his chest.

sometimes he wished he didn’t know kim wonpil at all.

and then he came into view, that same mess of curly brown hair woven into sunlight, those sparkling eyes filled with joy, that wide smile that was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing dowoon had seen in all twenty five years of his pathetic existence- and he knew he wouldn’t give having known kim wonpil for anything in this world.

a tiny fist tugged at the sleeve of his day-old hoodie, effectively snapping him out of his reverie. a questioning gaze hidden in a serious set of eyes; park sungjin, the five year old ahjussi of the kindergarten kids.

“do’un hyung! why are you staring at pillie hyung like that? you’re supposed to be helping me with this novel i’m writing” he argued obstinately, and dowoon had to hold back from cooing at how adorable sungjin was (sungjin didn’t like to be cooed at; according to him, only babies got cooed at and sungjin wasn’t a baby) and instead chose to nod in agreement.

“ah, i’m so sorry sungjin. of course i’ll help you! hmm, you know what would be a good idea for a novel like yours? if you added pictures, made it like a comic!” he explained, tapping the paper as sungjin pouted thoughtfully.

“well, I can’t draw very nice... but I could get jae hyung to draw the pictures for me!” he exclaimed after careful consideration of the matter, and dowoon nodded in agreement. “that’s an excellent idea sungjin-ah!” he cheered, smiling softly as the little boy pushed himself off of his seat and scampered towards the playground where the rest of the kids were playing.

dowoon would never admit it, but he was fiercely fond of the kindergarten kids in his school. being a teacher at twenty five had never been part of his plan, but one thing led to another, and now here he was. he sighed wistfully, watching the kids- _his_ kids -play and scream and jump around; as much as he missed having aspirations, he had to admit, some things in life were worth missing out for.

 _like him_ , he thought.

he turned to find his partner setting up next to him, unpacking a new set of books and materials from his backpack. a pastel sweater, a broad smile- kim wonpil was unreal. dowoon could stare at him for hours on an end and he could swear he would never see the light dim behind those warm brown eyes.

and when wonpil looked up to meet his eyes, thermocol models and notebooks spilling out of his hands, dowoon _had_ to look away. his ears were already burning up, goddamnit- if he maintained eye contact with kim wonpil any longer, he’d probably combust.

and here was the thing- wonpil was nice, wonpil was friendly. unfortunately for dowoon, wonpil was also gorgeous, and stunning, and had the voice of an angel and was the kindest most gentle person dowoon had ever known and was clever and adorable and had a smile that could petrify medusa with the power it held, probably. dowoon didn’t even know what he was saying anymore when it came to kim wonpil, just mindless blabber and sweaty palms.

he would’ve been incredibly embarrassed were it not for the crippling disappointment that stemmed from the fact that his inability to befriend kim wonpil was the greatest failure of his adult life (it was up there along with him not knowing that fruit are incredibly fucking expensive, and also that he was allergic to mangoes).

“what’re you thinking about?” came the inquisitive voice, and dowoon could feel himself stiffening up in the presence of the One and Only.

“the kids, mangoes and the future” he answered simply, half a truth and half a lie. only kim wonpil, he sighed to himself, had the power to render dowoon so fabulously tongue-tied as he did, so that he could only feign unbothered nonchalance as a method of coping, when in fact all he wanted to do in that moment was jump around squealing and flapping his arms.

“oh, the future sucks” came wonpil’s immediate and amusingly definitive response, eliciting a weak smile from dowoon.

“and what about the kids?” he chuckled.

this brought a graceful smile to wonpil’s face, one that caused dowoon’s heart to hammer around his chest like a rodent on caffeine. “ _our_ kids, you mean. remember, for the seven hours that they spend under our care, they’re our kids and we’ll treat them so. and you already know my answer; just like you, I love each one of them more than anything in this world”

and wonpil was right in that. if there was anyone who could rival dowoon’s fierce adoration of his students it was kim wonpil, the same immovable determination to look after the little ones who had been left in their care. it was what made wonpil such a great caretaker, he supposed, that fierceness lined with gentle affection.

and _god_ , was it the most fucking attractive quality a grown man could ever have.

really, it was silly how perfect his coworker was. how could someone this wonderful even exist? unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it because wonpil didn’t see him the same way, because wonpil was probably straight, and because wonpil didn’t like him like that.

so he sighed, deflected his emotions and tugged on a playful smile- “And what about mangoes?”

and wonpil laughed at that, a scoff of playful amusement. “trick question- I know you’re allergic. so despite whether or not I like them- in my opinion, they suck anyways”

and when he turned his back to dowoon in farewell, heading over to gather the kids, dowoon had to physically hold a hand to his chest because the sheer force with which he was fond of wonpil was plain embarrassing.

 _maybe someday_ , dowoon allows himself to fantasize, as he watches the cardigan-clad back of his coworker disappear behind the corner wall. _maybe tomorrow_ , he jokes to himself, because there is absolutely no way that would ever happen, right.

right?

\--

“younghyun-ah! get back here this instant! kang younghyun, get down here!” wonpil shouted annoyedly, hands on his hips and a frown knitting his brow, more out of concern than anger but to no avail. the little boy in question had already climbed halfway up the tree by the time jae had confessed to where he was hiding.

recess had gotten over a good ten minutes ago, and when younghyun hadn’t showed up in time for class, wonpil had gotten worried. all it took was a stern tone of voice and a little pressuring for jae to give in; the poor thing was already scared sick that younghyun would fall and “break his clavicle”(heaven alone knew where he’d picked up _that_ new word) in a fate that jae had considered worse than death itself.

after having carefully consoled the teary boy, wonpil managed to glean younghyun’s whereabouts from the scrawny little six-year old, and as it turns out, him and sungjin were trying to skip class by hiding out in the tree near the corner of the playground, all a part of younghyun’s grand scheme of plans to cause general chaos and mischief. and unfortunately for wonpil, younghyun _loved_ making mischief.

now here they were, younghyun dangling upside down from the highest branches and wonpil stranded at the foot of the tree, a desperate jae and a sober sungjin clinging to each leg.

it was times like these when he sorely missed his partner in crime, his coworker and beloved assistant teacher yoon dowoon. yeah, dowoon was a bit too shy for wonpil to get to know him properly, and he always acted really standoffish whenever wonpil tried talking to him, but he was a sweet kid and he was great at handling the kids.

not to mention, him and wonpil had been working in tandem for so long that when dowoon took the occasional day off (which he was perfectly entitled to, of course, no matter how badly wonpil wished he’d stay) it completely threw everything off kilter.

somehow wonpil would inevitably be swamped with work on the very days that dowoon would take leave, the kids would get extra jittery and his annoying coworkers seemed to get even more annoying.

and now, this.

“younghyun-ah, what on earth are you doing up there? please come down before you get hurt” he called, already tired from a day’s work. the boy in question just blew a raspberry down at him, causing wonpil to roll his eyes at his antics.

as lovable as the five year old was with his toothy-grin and bright eyes, kang younghyun definitely was a handful.

wonpil turned to a sniffling jae and a contemplative sungjin, kneeling before them with the sincerest puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “now please, you two, listen to me okay. i’m going up there to fetch younghyun, and I want you two to patiently wait down at the playpen for me. is that doable?”

and maybe it was because jae and sungjin picked up on the subtle desperation in wonpil’s voice, or the acute exhaustion in his eyes, but jae took sungjin’s hand in his own and nodded reassuringly. wonpil almost saw a little guilt in their sober expressions, and he wished worse than anything else that the boys wouldn’t feel too bad for causing trouble.

they were just his kids, after all.

but he didn’t have time for any of that. folding up the sleeves of his cardigan, wonpil grabbed onto one of the sturdier branches of the tree and hoisted himself upwards.

it was times like these he appreciated having a lean frame, one that wouldn’t strain the branches of the tree too much, and thankfully, younghyun had only gone a few feet above wonpil’s head when he’d been standing on the ground, so he didn’t have to climb too high to come face to face with the boy.

the toddler in question was seated curled in on himself in the crook of a few branches, a scrape on his exposed knee and a small cut on his cheek that wonpil was itching to take care of. but what struck wonpil first and foremost about his appearance was the puffy nose, red eyes and heavy breaths- he’d been crying?




oh no, so he wasn’t just playing around?

“younghyun-ah” he called softly, schooling his expression into gentle neutrality so as to not startle the boy with his worry. younghyun looked up at wonpil’s voice out of reflex, and then instantly looked away.

“go away pillie-hyungie” he pouted, the dramatic thing with his pudgy arms crossed and his flared cheeks, and wonpil hated that younghyun was someone who tended to naturally push away people who tried caring for him, because he cared for the little boy so much and rarely was he allowed to express it.

“whats wrong hyunnie?” wonpil called softly, raising himself to sit at the edge of a branch near younghyun’s foot. his words brought a fresh batch of tears to the angry little boy’s eyes, which he wiped away furiously with the sleeve of his shirt, adamant on hiding his tears.

“nothing happened. leave me alone” he pouted, turning to face the bark of the tree.

a beat of silence echoed, before wonpil raised himself to where younghyun was seated, waited until the boy was aware of his presence and then slowly spread his arms open.

younghyun turned around slowly, and then launched his tiny figure into wonpil’s arms. his now-relentless sobbing brought fresh tears to wonpil’s eyes that he struggled to contain, but he had to; for younghyun’s sake. he stroked his head, rubbed his back, lulling him into a calmer state with his ministrations.

“kang younghyun” he whispered slowly, threading his finger into the boy’s hair in an act that he seemed to appreciate.

“wonpil-hyung” he wailed, burrowing his face further into wonpil’s cardigan.

they sat like that for a few minutes, younghyun fidgeting with the lose fabric at the edge of wonpil’s shirt, not quite meeting his eyes. when he spoke up, wonpil took that as a sign to scooch away a little; younghyun enjoyed his space.

“i miss dowoon-hyung” he declared, as though that were the root cause of everything.

wonpil sighed at the statement, flashing younghyun a tired smile of his own. “i’m going to let you in on a little secret here, I miss dowoon-hyung too. a lot, actually. he’s one of my best friends” wonpil sighs, leaning into younghyun gently.

“you miss him too?” came the inquisition, a tinge of accusation behind his words, and wonpil had to refrain from being _too_ genuine with younghyun- he was a child, after all.

“yeah hyunnie; I do miss him a lot. why, why do you miss him?” wonpil prompted, swinging his legs slowly through the leaves.

this elicited a moment of thought from the toddler, and then- “woonie-hyungie is really cool. he’s really nice to all of us, and he knows a lot about music and science. he also lets me play with the bugs outside, even though he secretly hates them. and he even lets me use the grown up water fountain, even if i’m not as tall as him” younghyun listed, counting them off his fingers as he went.

“what about you pillie-hyung? why do you miss woonie-hyung?” he asked, and he let his little legs swing alongside wonpil’s longer ones. wonpil thought to himself, he may have very few friends in life, but he was glad that this five year old is one of them.

“why do I miss dowoon? well, that’s easy. he’s my friend, hyunnie” wonpil smiled easily. but younghyun only pouted at that, unsatisfied.

“no pillie-hyung. what in exact?” he argued.

“what exactly, hyunnie” wonpil corrected him absentmindedly, yet his thoughts took him back to all the reasons why he was missing the man in question- why indeed was he missing dowoon so much?

was it those large gentle hands of his? so capable of taking care of the things that wonpil couldn’t, pulling younghyun out of mischief and rocking sungjin whenever the child had a meltdown, wiping the mess away from the highest shelf when something fell over or consoling a coworker’s tantrum that was beyond wonpil’s capacity to handle?

or was it those bright eyes of his? those telltale signs of kindness and wit that seemed to soothe even the most unruly of behavior, children turning to putty under his gaze in an attempt to make him crack one of those rare smiles that made wonpil (for only a few, and very secretive moments, mind you) wonder whether Galileo was in fact wrong in claiming that the universe was heliocentric, and that their unfortunate world did in fact revolve around yoon dowoon.

or maybe it was their functionality together; dowoon reaching where wonpil couldn’t, wonpil fitting where dowoon wouldn’t. having dowoon was like having half a hand more, like dealing with the world became that much easier with the man by his side. like his gentle smile and his silly teasing humor could solve poverty and bring about world peace.

or maybe just peace to wonpil’s little world.

“pillie-hyung?” came the silent inquisition, and younghyun was looking at him with well-placed worry, tugging at the sleeve of his cardigan to grab his attention. how long had he blanked out for again?

“ah, yes. i’m terribly sorry younghyun-ah, i lost track of my thoughts back there for a second. but uhm, why do I miss woonie, you ask?” he repeated, wringing his hands unconsciously. the little boy nodded, now satisfied that his hyung seemed to be in the right headspace once more.

“well, it’s because he feels like family” wonpil answered softly, smiling down at the soft ‘oh’ that younghyun responded with. wonpil prayed desperately to whatever higher power that younghyun wouldn’t dwell too much upon the analogy he had come up in a moment of weakness, too late now to take back, and instead focus on the emotional dilemma that had brought the two of them up there in the first place.

“so… you miss dowoon hyung?”

\--

when dowoon had taken the day off from work sporting the most fabulous case of allergies and a migraine ever, he hadn’t imagined his life to be as two-dimensional as it really was.

staring down at his studio apartment that held absolutely nothing of interest to him, dowoon could only stop and wonder exactly when he’d become the sort of person whose job became his entire life.

and indeed, on his miniature dining table slash workplace were the countless little flashcards and projects he’d been working on for class the night before, among piles of glitter and craft paper and Kleenex, the Kleenex being a more recent addition to the lot. he blew his nose balefully, trying and failing miserably to come up with a single decent way to pass his time while his white blood cells did their whole immunity thing.

he truly had no purpose to his life beyond his job, did he.

the only concern that had been plaguing him all day, ever since he called in busy the night before whilst doped up on concerning quantities of Nyquil and lemon tea, was how his kids were holding up. and of course, the One He Didn’t Want to Think About, the subject of his unfortunate affection, kim wonpil.

god, he was a fucking embarrassment. three times now he’d caught himself staring off into the distance and wondering whether wonpil was doing alright. three times! that was three more than the appropriate number of times he should have ever been spacing out and thinking about his coworker. not to mention, it made him feel unprofessional as fuck.

he wasn’t supposed to be crushing on kim wonpil; despite being incredibly attractive and wonderful and kind, the man was still his coworker!

maybe it was all the fluids in his skull that were fucking with his emotions, or maybe it was his emotions fucking with whatever was up there in his skull. maybe dowoon was just a fucking coward who deserved all the nonsense he put himself through as punishment for his inability to actually tell kim wonpil what he felt, or maybe he just needed to learn to deal with his feelings better. after all, with how distant dowoon got around him (not out of willingness, mind you), he wouldn’t be surprised if wonpil was a little annoyed by him.

head in his hands, dowoon threw himself onto his miserable excuse of a futon, groaning in celebration of his own self-pity. he was sick, helplessly in love, and he missed his kids.

could his day get any worse?

and then the buzzer rang.

fuck, he was _shirtless_.

“who is it” he called out sharply, wincing at the sharp pitch of his voice, holding down the buzzer with one hand and slipping into the first jacket he could find with the other.

“there’s uhm, there’s a few visitors come to meet you? they say they’re here to see how you’re doing”

his head sprang upwards in alarm, instantly scanning his mess of an apartment, taking in the empty bottles of Nyquil strewn across the floor in his lethargic state of sickness and the stray packets of chicken soup that he never got around to actually setting to boil, the copious amounts of soiled tissues and his sea of blankets that he’d managed to drag out of his closest before passing out in a post-medicated haze last night.

he sprinted.

wincing slightly as the blood rushed to his head, dowoon scrambled around in a haze, scooping up empty boxes and plastic wrappers, dumping the whole collective of his mess into the garbage bag that he kept underneath his kitchen cupboards, folding sheets and closing doors in a hurry. he gave his apartment a quick once over, sighing at how fucking hopeless it was, but he supposed it had to do for now.

“send them in, please”

and maybe it was because dowoon had only been expecting his parents or his elder sister to show up, maybe his friends from the club if he stretched his imagination a little, but the last face he’d expected to see as he cracked the door open with a tired greeting, was kim wonpil’s.

he stared at that radiant smile for a few seconds, as beautiful and kind as ever, and then down at the three overly eager and curious faces of his kids, the ones he loved so much, and then back again at wonpil.

wonpil.

 _kim wonpil_.

kim wonpil, his coworker, and the fucking love of his life.

“wonpil-ssi” he squeaked, and he vaguely registered the tiny frames of the three toddlers colliding into his knees in a chorus of “ _dowoon-hyung!_ ” and “ _I missed you!_ ” except dowoon wasn’t processing anything because kim wonpil was here. in front of him. standing in front of his apartment.

his apartment, as he registered with growing horror, that was an utter fucking mess.

“wonpil-ssi” he murmured again, not quite in the right mental state to say anything as he stared, and he was vaguely aware of his blood pressure rising in his ears, the customary raging blush that came with laying his eyes on his crush.

and he couldn’t even say anything, not when wonpil was laughing so melodiously and apologizing for showing up without notice, but the kids had missed dowoon so much that they simply had to come visit, and that dowoon shouldn’t worry because he’d already spoken to the children’s guardians and gotten their approval, so could they please be let in now?

if he was being completely honest, dowoon wasn’t even sure if he was forming coherent thoughts anymore. he seemed to be functioning on autopilot as he swung the door open, inviting them into his living room and offering them something to drink as they took the beanbag chairs that surrounded his coffee table.

the kids seemed to be buzzing with excitement at being introduced into a new space. younghyun, in particular, seemed to have taken a liking for the stack of dvds and records that dowoon kept near his boombox, abandoned sheets of music and magazines thrown around carelessly. unlike his elder and more shy companions, he seemed to have no problem with touching and fiddling with whatever he pleased, much to wonpil’s embarrassment.

“dowoon-ah, i’m genuinely really sorry for barging in on you like this. the kids simply had to see you once I suggested the idea, and I called in advance but your phone was switched off, and- younghyun stop touching that- I thought you would appreciate some soup” he rambled, gesturing to the thermos that was cradled in jae’s careful hands, who seemed proud of the task he’d been trusted with, “and i- I wanted to see if you were doing alright”

that last bit came out a little strangled, and the genuine worry in wonpil’s voice caused something to twist gleefully in dowoon’s chest. in that moment, it would’ve been impossible for him to have been further in love with the man in front of him.

“i- i’m fine” he laughed gently, and for the first time in a long time he was unable to pull off his whole cool and unbothered façade, too tired from being sick and relieved, and so he simply allowed his genuineness to seep into his voice. what was the worst that could happen anyways; he’d already embarrassed himself enough in front of the few people who meant the most to him.

“just tired. and uhm, you guys can take off the masks and gloves, it’s nothing contagious- just allergies and a really bad migraine” he murmured weakly, chuckling with a fond smile as the three kids ripped their masks off dramatically, launching themselves at where dowoon was lounging on the couch and bursting with questions.

“is this where you live outside school, dowoon-hyung?”

“is that a real proper vinyl set? appa used to have those in his office cupboards!”

“woonie hyung, you have a real proper drum set in your house? that’s so cool!”

“where are your parents hyung? don’t you live with them?”

dowoon couldn’t help but laugh, a proper laugh that he hadn’t enjoyed in too long, as he catered to the endless array of questions that jae, sungjin and younghyun fired at him. _god_ , he’d forgotten how much he missed his little ones, younghyun’s tumbling excitement and jae’s playful teasing and sungjin’s quiet watchfulness.

and wonpil, he remembered, his gaze rising to meet that of the man who was awkwardly perched on a beanbag across his coffee table, watching dowoon and the kids with the sort of fond smile that seemed to bring stars to his eyes.

“wonpil-ssi?” he called.

\--

“wonpil-ssi?” came his voice, snapping wonpil out of his embarrassing reverie.

his head jerked up in surprise at being caught, eyes coming to rest upon the painfully familiar sight that presented itself to him, of dowoon surrounded by the children, _their_ children, a sight that he’d missed so much without even knowing it.

there he sat, with younghyun perched on his knee, jae and sungjin seated on either side of him and either boy clamoring to have his attention upon themselves. he sat there joking and smiling, yoon dowoon in all his tired and sickly glory, looking like the most beautiful thing wonpil would ever have the pleasure of knowing, all broad shoulders and flushed cheeks and- wait, was wonpil _blushing_?

he laughed breathily at the look of gentle confusion that dowoon fixed him with, waving away his embarrassment. “ah, i’m sorry, I was staring” he apologized slowly, his hands wringing into each other and his neck uncomfortably warm.

okay, wonpil was _definitely_ blushing.

and he had absolutely zero idea as to what was going on.

and then he looked some more, dowoon tenderly taking jae’s hand in his own and joking about how they were practically the same size now, dowoon answering all of sungjin’s questions with a sweet patience that seemed to genuinely satisfy the little boy’s raving curiosity, dowoon expertly matching younghyun’s quick darting words and bright eyes with his own silly humor and gracious smiles; wonpil felt the warmth in his chest grow, that telltale quickening of his pulse against his sweater sleeve. so maybe he had _some_ idea as to what was going on.

 _ah_ , he thought fondly, taking in the entirety of yoon dowoon as he was, as he’d always been.

 _oh shit_.

in a way it was almost ironic; dowoon had been around him, had been with him for over two years now. they’d been awkward coworkers and then they’d been close professional friends and then something in wonpil had shifted- not now, but somewhere along the line, and he hadn’t even noticed until he was faced with the hollow emptiness of dowoon’s absence from his life.

until he was sitting in dowoon’s apartment, having been driven there by the sheer force of his worry (and as he was now beginning to realize) affection for the man.

wonpil spent the next two hours in silent contemplation, observing fondly as dowoon and the kids entertained each other in their silly games, watching in proud amusement as sungjin tried his hand at dowoon’s drum set, and as the four tried to make soup for dowoon (wonpil ended up stepping in midway when jae almost decided to throw in a handful of cayenne because apparently the soup needed more “pizazz”), and finally, as the heartbroken children bade their teacher goodbye, their parents having arrived to pick them up.

as jae’s dad shut the door on the two, the last of the kid’s to take their leave, wonpil couldn’t help but wonder, where would they go from here? was he still welcome to stay? hadn’t he overstepped enough boundaries for one visit?

“wonpil-ssi, _stop_ ” came dowoon’s easy laughter, and wonpil physically stopped in his tracks under dowoon’s kind gaze.

“huh?” he asked, blushing furiously- something that seemed to have become habitual to him ever since he’d first stepped into the apartment.

“I can practically see the cogwheels churning inside your head, hyung. whatever it is, don’t overthink it. here-“ dowoon said, resting a hand on wonpil’s shoulder to guide him to the futon, “-have a seat”

and wonpil took the seat, unsure as to what he should do with his hands when dowoon disappeared off into the kitchen. he fiddled with the edge of his sweater for a bit, sighing when his nerves didn’t settle, and then got up again, following where dowoon had headed into the kitchen.

“dowoon” he called out slowly, his breaths sounding painfully loud in his own ears, and he stumbled upon the man floundering around in the freezer. “wh-what are you doing?” he asked casually, watching as the man stuck his head further into the freezer with a furtive glance.

“aha!” he exclaimed triumphantly, drawing back with a wide grin, and in his hand he held… a lemon popsicle? he presented it to wonpil with a flourish, his grin now morphing into one of sheepish embarrassment. “it’s for you” he chuckled shyly, handing it to wonpil, who could only grip the thing in his silence, the ice a stinging cold against the palm of his hand.

a popsicle?

“y-you said a while ago that this was your favorite flavor, right? I tried it out a few days ago- I’m more of a strawberry guy myself- but well I thought you would like…” he trailed off slowly, now rubbing his neck and completely avoiding eye contact.

wonpil, meanwhile, had been stunned into silence.

he vaguely remembered a conversation from around two weeks ago, where he’d been rambling about his neighborhood convenience store having run out of his favorite flavor of lemon popsicle, but he’d thought dowoon had just been tuning him out, as he’d always assumed dowoon did.

he’d definitely not expected dowoon to remember the brand he was talking about, much less have gone home and actually tried out the flavor. it flustered him for some strange reason, having been perceived by the last person he’d expect to notice him.

“you- you were listening?” he whispered in stunned silence, no longer bothering to keep the gentle awe out of his voice, staring at dowoon with the most sober expression he could muster, and the uncharacteristic flare of indignation in his eyes set off another furious blush beneath wonpil’s collar.

“listening to you? without a doubt. wonpil-ssi, you should know this by now; if you have something to say, i’m always listening”

and then he blushed a little, the same bumbling flustered thing he usually reverted back to in his adorable shy nature- “I mean, not in the weird way. y’know, I like hearing what you have to say. I just- I swear, it’s not something weird or creepy, oh god”

as he was rambling, wonpil found himself quietly setting the plastic packet down on the counter of the kitchen, moving forward slowly until he stood right in dowoon’s line of vision, until he was close enough to set his hands upon dowoon’s upper arms, until he could look straight into his eyes.

he didn’t know what he was doing, and he certainly didn’t know _why_ he was doing it, but it felt right.

it felt right to gently dig his fingers into the muscles of dowoon’s arms, it felt right to lean in until his breath washed over dowoon’s jacket-clad torso and he could breathe in the scent of dowoon that clung to his skin. “is this… is this okay?” wonpil asked carefully, not quite meeting his gaze.

a tremor went through dowoon, as he nodded quietly, and wonpil leaned forward and rested his cheek against the bare skin of dowoon’s neck, a palm slipping between them to press into the patch of skin above where dowoon’s heart was hammering underneath that same pale skin of his.

the air around them was still with uncertainty, like the whole world was holding its breath in wake of wonpil’s wordless confession. and then-

“every time I think you can’t affect me any further, hyung” dowoon whispered breathlessly, like the words were taking a physical toll on him, “you go on and prove me wrong”

and wonpil was grinning into his embrace, those same strong arms coming up to cage his slightly smaller frame, and dowoon was chuckling with him, his ringing sonorous laughter that urged wonpil to further bury his nose into the neck of dowoon's jacket- _him, all of him_.

wonpil pulled back slowly, tilting his head back slightly so as to look dowoon in the eye, and he reveled in the heated flush that crept up dowoon’s neck, thinking _maybe i’m not the only fool in love here_. “how long?” he asked slowly, his hands coming up absentmindedly to thread into the hairs at the back of his head.

“have I felt this way? embarrassingly long” dowoon laughed, and now they were swinging with each other, with dowoon’s hands on his waist and wonpil’s own ones guilty of finding their way into dowoon’s ridiculously soft hair. “you?” he asked slowly, anticipation bubbling in his eyes.

wonpil thought for a moment, genuinely considering his answer.

“longer than i knew myself” wonpil laughed, and dowoon laughed with him.

“I was such a coward, ugh. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now” dowoon pouted, and he was just so adorable that wonpil was forced to press a chaste little peck on the tip of his adorable nose, causing his flush to deepen in hue.

“you’re not a coward, yoon dowoon” wonpil laughed, and his heart felt like it was leaping into his throat with the sheer amount of affection he felt in the moment. “you’re simply wonderful”

**Author's Note:**

> (so uhh the meaning of the title. i'm sorry i'm paranoid and weird and i need to make sure you know the meaning hehe. feel free to,,, skip right past this btw. "there's fear in loving and loving in being loved" the first bit, its about dw being afraid to proclaim his love for wp, how he's holding himself back from loving wp properly because he is afraid of embarrassment, and he's resigned himself to the fate of a coward. the second bit is how he overcomes what he's afraid of because of the better aspect of loving- being loved. really this goes for everything; theres always that little bit of someone loving you when you're truly and fully in love with them. dw's crush for wp's platonic love, dopil and their children, amongst the kids too- yeah i'm really heckin soft right now okay don't come for me)


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